


Superimposed

by toffeecape



Series: Bird Rock Lambchop (Bird Bigger Bird) [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blindshipping, Crying, First Time, Fix-It, Frottage, Holding Hands, Id Fic, Identity Porn, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Kink, Mutual Masturbation, Naked Cuddling, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Watching, Porn with Feelings, Puzzleshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 12:28:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toffeecape/pseuds/toffeecape
Summary: Yugi wants his other self to have nice things.





	Superimposed

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: I have watched exactly enough of the show to be like, "OMG these nerds... oh no I ship it."
> 
> So I wrote them a big box of pop tarts. Enjoy!

_Hey, other me,_ Yugi thinks, _are you there?_

 _I’m here,_ the spirit responds, _what do you need?_

“Have breakfast with me.” He feels a little silly speaking out loud alone, but he should begin as he intends to go on.

_What?_

“Be in here, with me, while I eat breakfast.” Yugi pokes at the frying pan. The eggs look great, yolks set but still wobbly, and he scoops them onto the rice already in his bowl. He places it beside the bowl of miso soup already on the table and sits down.

“Why?” As he becomes more present, the spirit’s voice is more heard than felt, but as requested he does not resolve into a separate figure. Yugi can sense his curiosity as they survey the meal in front of them.

“I was thinking, since we’re sharing a body, you should get to enjoy the good things about having a body. Like food!” Yugi seasons the egg and rice, and takes a big bite. _Can you taste that?_ he thinks at his guest.

The way his eyes fall shut, and the shiver that isn’t his own, is answer enough. He grins as he chews, really taking the time to enjoy the simple flavors. Yami says nothing, but Yugi can feel the weight of his attention, and his almost shocking pleasure at every mouthful. He considers that if this was _his_ first meal in five thousand years, it would be a big deal to him too.

About halfway through the egg and rice, he sets it down and reaches for the miso soup. “What is this?” Yami says quietly.

“Oh, yeah. Well, egg I’m sure you know, but rice you probably don’t, being from ancient Egypt and all. And then this is miso soup, which is-” Yami cuts him off.

“I meant, what are you doing, Yugi?”

Yugi sighs. “I just want to be a good host. And… you’ve done a lot for me, you know? This is something I can do for you.”

“You don’t have to.”

Yugi nods. “I know. But I want to,” he says firmly, then, less certainly, “if - I mean, so long as _you_ want to?” Oh geez, maybe Yami doesn’t want to be reminded of everything he lost when he died...

Yami is silent for a moment, then says, “Your generosity humbles me, Yugi.” He’s so formal, it should sound silly, but somehow he has the gravitas to carry it off. Ancient royalty; Yugi has no trouble believing it at all. “Very well. I am grateful for your hospitality; please continue.”

He _really_ likes the miso soup, and is very intrigued when Yugi explains what miso is. Yugi resolves to get ahold of more fermented foods, and maybe some of Grandpa’s beer.

* * *

They continue that way for a while, Yugi inviting Yami into the passenger seat for most meals. He finds himself eating slower, savoring everything for his other self’s appreciation. And does he ever appreciate it - Yami makes enough noise over his favorites that Yugi has to make excuses to his friends that he’s just really hungry lately.

“You must be having a growth spurt, Yuge,” Joey teases, “try to turn some of it into height instead of hair, huh?”

He looks up ancient Egyptian foods, and sneaks some onto the menu here and there, secretly hoping to jog the pharaoh’s memory, but it never happens. He gets a couple of unexpected emotions: cinnamon evokes a surprising reverence, and dates a vague disgust, so exactly like how Yugi feels about strawberry ice cream that he’s certain the pharaoh once gorged himself sick on them. Stuff like that, but not much of it; mostly Yami likes what Yugi likes, borrowing his palate along with everything else.

Eventually he branches out into other senses, calling Yami forward to partake in things Yugi thinks he might like. The spirit always thanks him, sometimes politely (the latest pop songs on the radio), sometimes enthusiastically (a cherry tree in blossom, petting a cat in a bookshop). His favorite thing, _of course,_ is any and all sports and games. Yugi wishes he could get the spirit a TV with all the sports channels for his soul room, but it doesn’t quite work that way.

* * *

  _We’re playing soccer for gym today. You can play if you want, but you can’t give yourself away. No using your voice or making me play way better than usual. Are you in?_

 _YES!_ Yugi chuckles, earning a couple of odd glances from the other boys hoping not to be picked dead last.

Yami _loves_ soccer.

Arousing suspicion turns out not to be a problem. It takes him a little while of observing (and interrogating Yugi) to understand the rules and objectives, and to Yugi’s relief not even being possessed by the King of Games can overcome being kind of a shrimp. On the outside, he just plays like Yugi with a little extra enthusiasm and luck.

But on the inside, he’s transported with joy. He chases the ball and the other players up and down the field with gusto, relishing the burn in his muscles, the spray of the wet grass against his legs, the thrill of getting in a shot at the net. When the game is over he sprawls on the field for a minute, sucking the cool spring air, pungent with sweat and feeling his skin itch where the sun is rapidly drying it, and Yugi basks in his delight.

 _Thank you for this,_ Yami says sincerely.

 _You’re welcome._ And he is. It does something for Yugi, to be able to make someone so happy so easily. Especially when that someone is his other self. He knows now that the spirit is his own person - or was - but that acceptance hasn’t gone away. And so there has been no effort involved in sharing his body like this, no feeling of boundaries strained, only the privilege of being a giver of gifts.

The idea occurs to him then, but he has to push it away before he thinks too hard about it. Gym shorts aren’t _that_ forgiving.

* * *

 Yugi remembers his idea later that day, as he’s getting ready for bed. “Hey, other me,” he calls softly - mindful of Mom and Grandpa, yet trying to brazen past his shyness, “come check this out.”

Yami comes forward eagerly, anticipating some new sensation. He seems confused to see only Yugi hauling a battered cardboard box out from under the bed. “What’s this?”

“Remember a while ago when you asked about a video I was holding, and I avoided the question?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well, now I’m not going to avoid it.” Yugi opens the box. “This is my porn collection. Porn is, um, erotic art - mostly movies and pictures, sometimes other stuff - that people, well,” he swallows, “masturbate to.”

“I… see.”

They survey the box together until Yugi grabs a title. “This is a good one. I want to relax before bed, so I’m gonna put it on.”

“Ah. I’ll leave you to it, then. Thank you for answering my question.” For once, the spirit sounds awkward.

Yugi sympathizes, but he resolved to make an invitation and he will see it made. “Or you could… stick around? If you wanted.”

Yami fully manifests in order to jerk back and stare at him. “Yugi. Hospitality doesn’t extend this far.”

“Who says it can’t? Our situation isn’t exactly common; I think we get to decide what we do and don’t do.”

“I can _feel_ that you’re uncomfortable talking about this.”

“Talking about it, sure, yeah, it’s embarrassing.” Understatement; his whole face is on fire. “But you can also feel that it’s something I want to do. And I can tell that you’re interested too.” It’s true; Yugi can sense an anxious concern on his behalf, but no outright opposition to the suggestion itself. “C’mon, most of my ideas have turned out pretty well so far, right?”

“I can’t deny that,” Yami admits, “but… I don’t want to take advantage. I’m older than you.”

Yugi snorts. “You’re older than everyone. And it’s not like you remember anything you got up to when you had a body of your own, so technically even I have more experience than you.” He blinks. “Shit, would _I_ be taking advantage?”

“Definitely not,” the spirit says hastily. He looks down at the video in Yugi’s hand and squares his shoulders. “All right. Let’s give it a try.”

Settled on the bed with the film playing, the pharaoh comments, “This storytelling is very bad.”

Yugi laughs. “It’s traditional; the only point of the story is to get to the good stuff. Here we go!” The woman rips off her blouse for no apparent reason, but the man definitely isn’t complaining. “Get in here, other me. You don’t get the benefit when you’re all ghosty.”

Yami fades back into Yugi’s body and huffs at Yugi’s level of arousal. “They aren’t even naked yet.”

“Yeah, but there are boobs!” The man moves into the picture, pants around his knees. “Ooh, and butt!” This video is so great: something for everyone, and everything a horny bi kid could ask for. He grips his knees, and then starts rubbing his thighs. A good shiver goes through him; his or Yami’s, he isn’t sure.

The couple on the screen are really getting into the heavy petting now, the man hiking up the woman’s skirt as she curls her leg around his waist and he buries his face in her tits.

“They’re very confident,” Yami approves. It’s meant lightly, but Yugi can hear his breathlessness.

The woman falls back onto the desk she’s sitting on, already starting to moan as her partner’s hand works under her skirt. Yugi unzips his pants, palming the head of his hardon - not gripping it yet, just a hello.

He almost comes then and there. Just that quick touch sends a huge kick of lust through his belly. “Whoa!” He presses down harder, just this side of uncomfortable, trying to ground himself. His breath leaves him in a wheeze. _Five thousand years without a body,_ Yugi reminds himself, _and no memory of the time before that._

“I don’t know if the ‘porn’ was necessary, Yugi,” Yami manages to say, his voice higher than usual.

“I’m beginning to see that,” Yugi gasps, falling back onto the bed and rucking up his shirt, running a hand over his stomach and up to his nipples. He pinches one lightly, and has to bite his other hand to muffle Yami’s moan. He rubs his face and neck, the side of his ribcage, tossing his head with how crazy good it feels. Touching and touched all at once, sensations and their echoes bouncing between the two of them as the tension coils in his groin.

He reaches the edge so fast he barely has time to get his dick out before he’s coming, streaking his own abdomen. He lies there panting, head spinning, cock not softening in his hand in the least.

“Is that it?” Yami sounds as dazed as Yugi feels.

Yugi grins. “Maybe if I was _only_ trying to put myself to sleep, but I think I can show you more of a good time than that.” Yami is surely too dignified for the sound he makes to be a whimper, but it’s not _not_ a whimper either.

Yugi kicks off his pants and throws his shirt to join them, then sprawls out and licks his palm, making sure to get a taste and a whiff of his come, weirdly gross and good at the same time. Yami grunts, then whines when Yugi’s slick hand closes around his erection. But he’s taken the edge off with that first orgasm, and he can take his time now, jerking luxuriously. His other hand wanders over his chest, toying with each nipple in turn. He strokes his neck, feeling the rasp of his breathing and vibration of stifled moans, the thunder of his pulse, the sweat beginning to turn his skin slippery. He reaches up to his mouth, sucks his fingers, lets them drag on his lips on the way back out. Yami racks their body with shudders at each touch, writhing and arching like he can hardly stand it.

The timbre of the moans on the forgotten video changes. Lust-drunk, Yugi’s head feels almost too heavy to roll to the side, but this is a good bit and he wants Yami to see it. He spreads his legs and reaches down between them as he and Yami regard the man from the earlier scene, now straddling the lap of a man kneeling behind him, limp everywhere but his furiously hard cock. The first man’s head lolls back onto his partner’s shoulder as he gets fucked, held up by a steadying hand on his chest. Yugi rubs little circles over his asshole, feeling the muscle under the wrinkled skin soften in fits and starts as he keeps up a strong rhythm on his cock.

“Which one - ah! - which one do you want to be?” Yami’s voice is strangled, urgent, and Yugi sounds just as desperate as he answers,

“Both, either. Hngh - m-maybe the one holding him up. I wanna do that to someone: spread them out, give them everything- oh, _fuck!_ ” he slips a finger into his ass just as he starts to come again, and this time he bows up so hard only his shoulders and heels are touching the bed, and some of his come hits his _chin._

When Yugi can move again, his hands cramp as he lets go and pulls free. He’s disgusting, soaked everywhere and sticky all over his front, and he feels _amazing._ Little aftershocks spark over his body every time he exhales: in his nipples, his lips, the insides of his knees and elbows. He can almost see them in his mind’s eye, delicate traceries of lazy blue lightning.

“I wonder if I died a virgin,” Yami muses, “I doubt I was a good enough man to give _that_ up easily.”

Yugi giggles. “If it was that good _all_ the time, you’d fry too many brain cells to remember!”

He staggers through a quick but desperately-needed shower, and sinks to sleep like a stone almost as soon as he lies down again. The last thing he remembers is Yami saying, oddly intent, “Come to the soul room tomorrow night, okay, partner?”

“Sure thing, pal,” he mumbles, and then he’s down for the count.

* * *

 Yami is unusually quiet the next day, coming out for meals then vanishing again, politely declining other invitations. Yugi sends an inquiry if anything is wrong, and receives back a feeling of warm reassurance. Maybe he just wants to think about what they did last night. One could argue that Yugi seduced him into losing his virginity… sort of?

 _Maybe he’s jerking off._ Yugi remembers, not so long ago really, when he first became aware of the changes in his body and how he could make himself feel. It was all he could do to keep acting normal in public, stealing every spare moment to explore this wonderful new thing he could do with himself. The effect might be even greater for Yami, given that he didn’t have a body at all until he moved into Yugi’s. But Yugi isn’t sure how tangible Yami’s soul-form is, especially when he’s alone. So what he’s doing in their shared mindspace is a toss-up, really.

Yugi goes to bed earlier than usual, curious about what Yami’s been up to all day. He steps into the corridor between their soul rooms and knocks on Yami’s door, knowing that if the spirit isn’t on the other side, all he’ll find is the endless labyrinth of the Puzzle. But he is on the other side, smiling and practically yanking Yugi through the door-

-and into a bedroom. Well, no, more of a bed _chamber_. The four-poster bed draped in white linen, the pillars and walls that look carved and painted out of the corner of the eye but are blank when viewed directly, the low couch and square chairs, the pervasive sense that one whole wall should be an open-air balcony and there should be a lot more gold statuary everywhere; it’s all very 'if a pharaoh with no memories tried to conjure a bedroom, this is what he might come up with.'

“Did you make this?” Yugi asks, looking around in amazement. He’s never made anything in his soul room; it just is the way it is. Yami follows his gaze.

“Oh. Yes. It’s far from _correct,"_  he grimaces with amnesiac frustration, “but it will be sufficient to its purpose.” He advances on Yugi, showing enough teeth in his smile that Yugi backs up. “I thought of something that _I_ can do for _you._ ” Yugi collides with the wall just as Yami pauses thoughtfully. “Well, it’s just as much for me. But it was my _idea_ ,” he says smugly, and then kisses Yugi.

Oh.

Oh, this is better.

The doubled-up reactions from last night were intense, but bizarre; Yugi’s brain barely knew what to do with them. Half the stimulation and twice the body parts is a big improvement. Plus, of course, this way he can touch Yami directly, and Yami can touch back.

It’s odd: he smells and tastes exactly like Yugi himself (he’s said before that his form is just what Yugi will look like when fully grown, though Yugi doesn’t quite believe it), but the _feel_ of him is unmistakably Other. Yami’s boldness is palpable in his shoulders where Yugi clutches him, and in the press of his lips: soft and exploratory, but not in the least tentative. You would never guess he has even less experience than Yugi.

They’re both gaining experience at top speed now, though. Yugi tries licking at his lips, and when Yami figures it out and opens his mouth, Yugi’s tongue slides inside and a huge wave of _something_ surges up in his chest. He finds himself pushing back, so that Yami is the one to backpedal until his calves collide with the low bed and he flops down. He grunts, and looks up at Yugi with fierce delight, and Yugi all but pounces on him to tongue-fuck his mouth some more. It doesn’t take long for Yami to give Yugi his tongue in return, and when he does, Yugi sucks on it and isn’t sure who moans louder.

Yugi tenses up at the noise, and Yami breaks the kiss to say, “It’s just us in here; we can be as loud as we want.” He husks these words right into Yugi’s ear, then gently nibbles his earlobe. Yugi retaliates by biting at Yami’s neck just above the collar. He works a couple of fingers under the collar and gives it a tug.

Yami goes interestingly still. Yugi asks, “Do you want this on or off?”

“O-on,” Yami chokes, and his dick twitches hard against Yugi’s thigh. Yugi gives himself a mental high-five.  

“Okay,” he says, “okay, but let’s get the rest of this off you.” He has to move off Yami while they divest him of his clothes (Yugi shucks his pajamas in four seconds flat) and when they meet again they both cry out to feel all that skin on skin. Yami shifts fretfully, like he’s trying to somehow get even more contact when they’re already stacked like a pair of starfish. Yugi follows his hunch a little further and interlaces his fingers with Yami’s, then pins his hands flat to the mattress.

“It’s okay,” he says, “I got you.” Yami stares up at him, as surprised and vulnerable as Yugi’s ever seen him. Yugi plants his knees on the bed between Yami’s legs (which part obligingly), lines their cocks up, and tries a thrust. Yami quivers. Yugi’s arms are none too steady either. He does it again, and again, and just like that he’s found a rhythm.

Yami bucks up against him and gasps, “I thought we might try - like you showed me last night, with the - you said you wanted - unh, Yugi!”

Yugi laughs breathlessly. “We can work up to that if you like, but just this is blowing my mind for right now. Yeah?” Precome is getting everything nice and wet now, and he’s getting the hang of moving his hips for friction hands-free. Yami’s cock is hot and hard against his own, lighting his skin up like a brand when he slides beside it and traps them both between their stomachs for a beat. He’s teetering on the edge of orgasm as it is, but that huge thing in his chest makes him lean down and give Yami a hard, sloppy kiss, and then say,

“Would you like that, Pharaoh? Would you like to get _fucked?_ ”

Yami’s only answer is a wordless, full-throated yell as he comes - eyes shut, head back, neck corded. The sight triggers Yugi too, grinding hard against Yami until he’s too sensitive to stand it anymore and just collapses onto his chest.

He stays there, trying to catch his breath, while Yami disentangles their hands and slips his arms around him.

“I must be getting heavy.” Yami has to lift him to breathe in.

“Not really.”

“Thanks,” he drawls, and Yami chuckles. Yugi traces a small circle on Yami’s chest (quite hairless - oh well, Yugi will still be thrilled if he grows up this tall). “That wasn’t - weird, was it? I didn’t know I would act that way.”

“I could say the same thing.” Yami’s voice sounds even deeper with Yugi pressed against his chest to feel it rumble. He strokes idly up and down Yugi’s back as he says, “I suppose it makes sense. You have a generous heart, Yugi, and I’m not surprised that extends to - wanting to take care of your partner in this way. As for me - well. I certainly wouldn’t feel safe letting go like that anywhere else, or with anyone else.” This last he says almost shyly into Yugi’s hair, then drops a kiss on his forehead.

Yugi pushes himself up to return the kiss, then grimaces at the clammy mess gluing them together. “Any chance you could dream up some water and a towel?”

The basin and pitcher that appear on the bedside table are solid gold. Yugi doesn’t comment on it.

* * *

 After Yami gets Yugi's soul back from Dartz, after they walk off that beach and onto Kaiba’s helicopter, he retreats to the very back of Yugi’s mind and shuts down. Fair enough; it must have been an exhausting time for him, controlling Yugi’s body solo 24/7 against their biggest challenge yet. Yugi spent most of that time at loose ends in a bubble, so he’s okay to drive. But that night, he goes looking for Yami’s soul room. He has a feeling it won’t be hard to find, after Yami sought him for so long.

He finds him in the bedchamber, but not in the bed - beside it, on the floor, face buried in his knees hugged to his chest.

“Pharaoh?” Yugi calls quietly. Yami gives no sign he heard him. He sits down beside him and touches his arm, finding it hard as rock, trembling with tension. Yami’s breathing is fast and shallow, hitching with unshed tears.

“Other me,” Yugi says, even quieter, “I’m here.” He flattens his palm against Yami’s shoulder and strokes it firmly, grounding. Yami leans into the touch, then lets himself be gathered into Yugi’s arms, but he remains stiff, locked up.

“Let’s lie down, hey? Can you do that for me?” He guides Yami into standing and stripping, lays him down in the bed, and then climbs in with him and wraps around Yami like an octopus.

Finally, finally, Yami turns into his embrace and returns it, a tiny sob breaking from him.

“That’s right, that’s good. It’s all okay now.” That opens the floodgates, Yami hanging onto him and wracked with crying, pain leaving him in great heaving sobs. Yugi rides out the storm, rubbing his back and making soothing noises.

Yami’s looser when it’s passed, free of that awful tension that made Yugi ache with sympathy. When he speaks at last, his voice is slow and thick, words dredged up from the bottom of a well:

”Before you, I was without form or purpose, memory or thought. I was a shadow in a void. I could easily have become a malicious spirit, like that _thing_ that rides poor Bakura. I nearly still did, even after years of your good example.”

“But you didn’t,” Yugi interjects.

“No, I didn’t. And I have you to thank for that. The light of your friendship, the strength of our bond, is what kept me from falling to my own darkness.” He shifts in Yugi’s hold. “I would take another five thousand years of nothingness over feeling you ripped away from me like that again.”

“Don’t say that,” Yugi says, horrified.

“Why not? It’s the truth of how I feel.”

“But it’s not the whole truth of what happened. Right now you have your - your roots in me, because you lost your own. So yeah, I bet having that torn away really, really sucked. But that’s not all of who you are. You were strong enough to find your way through without me, even with that - that wound. And when we recover your memories it won’t be like that. You’ll be whole again, and standing on your own - it’ll feel right!”

“You really believe that?”

“I have to.” Yugi doesn’t know how he’ll cope with their final separation as it is. It would be unthinkable if it hurt Yami as much as it’s going to hurt him. “As much as I love - having you with me, you deserve better than to be chained to some artifact forever. You deserve freedom.” He chokes on sudden, traitorous tears of his own.

Yami cups his face, thumbing away the tears, and kisses him tenderly. “My feelings about any such ‘freedom’ apart from you are mixed at best, though I do still seek to finish my work. But that is all to come. We have now, here, together.”

Yugi blinks. “How are you so resilient?”

“Carefully aged materials,” Yami says gravely, and Yugi gives a blubbering laugh. But the spell is broken, the crisis passed, and his focus _is_ returning to the here and now, where Yami is very much present, warm and close as he hasn’t been for far too long.

“You know,” Yugi remarks, “time didn’t pass normally, where I was.”

“Probably more _how_ you were,” the spirit explains, “time is experienced very differently while incorporeal.” Well, he would certainly be the expert on that, wouldn’t he?

“Either way, I still had time to think. And I did have regrets.” He kneads Yami’s back, working lower until he’s gripping his ass.

“Such as?” The smile in Yami’s voice says he can guess what kind of regrets Yugi’s talking about.

“I still haven’t sucked your dick.” For all Yugi’s porny inspiration and ambitious dirty talk, just being with Yami this way is so ridiculously sexy that they haven’t really moved past advanced making-out. But as Yugi’s recently been reminded, they don’t have forever, and he has a bucket list.

Yami bites his lip. “Well,” he says faintly, “I wouldn’t want you to have regrets.” That playful spark is back in his eye, and Yugi’s breath catches on a rush of love for this man.

Rather than start crying again, he shuffles down Yami’s body and fastens his lips to one nipple, rolling the other between his fingers. Yami sucks in his breath and arches very prettily into the touch, moaning out an, “Ah!” when Yugi bites the nipple in his mouth oh-so-gently. He switches sides a couple of times, until both nipples are slick, high points, flushed a sore-looking pink. He could make Yami come with just this - has done, on one memorable occasion. But he’s a man on a mission, and that mission takes him south.

He’s gotten as far as Yami’s abs before, and the deep V of his hipbones. Both are ticklish, which is what derailed him the last two times he tried this. He can’t not lick and stroke a little, but he keeps his touches firmer here, and Yami only twitches a little instead of dissolving into giggles. His objective bobs against his chin, and he turns his face down to meet it and gives the head a lick.

The breath rushes out of both of them at once. The smell is that of Yugi’s own, but he’s never tasted it before - just his come, sometimes. And it’s still definitely _Yami’s cock,_ because every little lick and suck provokes deep, rumbling groans of appreciation, and an increasingly incoherent litany of praise.

“Mnnh! By the - oh, yes, just like that, ah! That’s so, you’re so, gahhh…”

Yugi takes about half Yami’s length into his mouth before it collides with the back of his throat and he gags, backs off, tries again, gags again, and finally settles for jerking the lower half in his fist and sucking and slurping at the top half. What he’s doing, who he’s doing it to, the _noises_ he’s getting out of his other self, usually so poised and now so undone, clutching fistfuls of the bedclothes so hard they could tear at any moment - it all has Yugi humping the mattress like he’s the one getting the blowjob.

Yami’s balls draw up, and in a sudden rush he begs, “Look at me, dearheart, let me see you, please.” Yugi tilts his head to look up at Yami, who’s leaning up on his elbows to look down at him, wild-eyed. He reaches out one trembling hand to caress the side of Yugi’s face. Yugi hollows his cheeks and sucks particularly hard, and Yami shudders out a long sigh and comes in his mouth.

Yugi swallows what he can, then releases him gently, knowing how sensitive Yami is post-orgasm. Then he pushes himself up to look upon what he has wrought, fisting his neglected cock urgently at the sight.

Yami is _wrecked,_  in the best possible way. Deep sex-flush on his face and halfway down his chest - nipples still in hard little points - sheened with sweat, abs rippling as he tries to catch his breath. Legs sprawled wide to make room for Yugi between them, softening dick trailing some stray, sluggish drops of come. And his face: open-mouthed, heavy-lidded, looking up at Yugi like he’s the cleverest, hottest person alive. Their name for him might be ‘dark’, but he’s anything but right now.

“You’re glowing,” is what Yugi blurts out.

Yami smiles lazily. “A reflection,” he murmurs. Yugi is too busy coming all over him to argue. He stripes Yami’s torso, then collapses into the mess he made, caught by Yami’s strong arms.

“... ‘Dearheart’?”

Yami groans quietly. “I will not be held responsible for things said in extremis.” Yugi continues to snicker until Yami shuts him up with languorous kisses.

He’s too tired to clean up. It’s been one hell of a long day. Yugi will just gamble on the dream-logic of the soul room letting them wake up clean. Plus he can’t bear to get up, not when he and Yami are finally intertwined again, at peace.

He’s almost asleep when he thinks he hears Yami say, softly but with absolute seriousness, “If ever I am truly free, I know what I will ask of destiny.” It sounds like a spell, or a vow.

“Whassat?”

“Nothing, partner. Go to sleep.”

“‘Kay. Night, other me.”

* * *

 Yugi envisions himself laying his grief in a gold sarcophagus, sealing the lid, to unbox at another time. Right now he has to be happy for Yami - for _Atem_ , his dark half no longer but a radiant king, whole in memory and power, whose very voice creates light. With the help of all their friends, and with Yugi as his champion, he has won the freedom to rest at long last. They’ve said their goodbyes, made their promises to keep him in their hearts - nevermind that Yugi’s heart is walking through that door, into the shining world of his memory, crowded with the figures of his loved ones from long ago.

The door swings shut, and there is a final blaze of light so powerful they all have to shield their eyes and turn away, even Yugi.

When they turn back, there is a figure kneeling in front of the door. Yugi stops breathing.

Atem stands, staring down at his own brown hands. He’s wearing the tunic he wore in his memories, and Téa’s cartouche, but nothing else - his cloak, his sandals, and especially all the gold is gone. He looks like a different person without it weighing him down and illuminating him. But he turns and looks at them, at Yugi, and his eyes are the same, however wide with shock.

“I made a request,” he says hoarsely, eyes never leaving Yugi’s. “It was granted.”

Yugi doesn’t remember crossing the chamber floor - he’s just there, reaching out with disbelieving hands. Atem reaches back, pressing his hands to Yugi’s palm-to-palm. His own, warm, dry hands, not a soul-dream or a memory or an ancient spell but flesh and blood. Their fingers interlace, and they fall into each other, weeping and laughing at once, and then, oh, and then Yugi has to kiss him. The earth shakes as he realizes Atem smells different, tastes different, because he’s not wearing some projected copy of Yugi’s body - this is _Atem’s own body,_  some kind of pure and miraculous gift after five thousand years of recursive destiny bullshit.

The earth shakes again. Yugi becomes aware that their friends are screaming at them. He breaks the kiss and looks around.

“The shrine is collapsing!” snarls Kaiba, who has reached them first on his long legs. He grabs their shoulders and yanks them to their feet. “Move, move, move!”

They move.

At the edge of the sinkhole the shrine leaves behind, dazzled by sunlight, they turn back to each other like magnets. Yugi can’t stop touching Atem’s face, with its angular planes and hint of stubble, where for so long it was his own face, round and smooth. And the brown of his skin - it’s so rich in the daylight, so much deeper than his own pale tan, and it makes his eyes so striking. It occurs to Yugi that Atem is really, objectively beautiful, and he feels suddenly shy.

Some of this must show on his face, because Atem shakes his head minutely and pulls him into another kiss. Yugi thinks he can feel him pouring everything they can’t say yet into it. The main thing doesn’t need saying: _he came back._

“Are we sure they’re not both ghosts now?” Mokuba asks loudly, “They’re going a really long time without air.”

“You see, Mokuba,” says Kaiba, “when a huge nerd and a total dork love each other very much-”

“Says the guy who flew to Egypt in a plane shaped like a dragon!” says Téa. “Be nice!”

“Yeah!” Joey chimes in. “Yugi just got his soulmate back! That’s a great thing!” He hesitates, then adds, “But, uh, guys? Can you move a little further away from the sinkhole? It’s makin’ me nervous.”

Atem sighs through his nose and finally turns back to their friends. “How about we move back onto the Ishtars’ boat?”

“Surely you mean your boat, Pharaoh,” Ishizu says. Marik turns faintly green; Odion regards his brother with concern.

“Absolutely not,” Atem asserts. “That was a condition of my return. I am just Atem now.”

Ishizu gives him a long look. “Very well then - Atem. Let us remove.” As the party sets out, she drops back to walk beside them. “As a friend of the family, may I offer you the use of our resources? You will need identification and proof of citizenship at the very least.”

Atem blinks. “I - yes. As a friend, I gratefully accept.”

“And where shall we make you a citizen of?”

Atem looks at Yugi and squeezes his hand. “Japan. Definitely Japan.” Yugi beams at him, too full of joy to speak.

The next people to fall into step with them are Joey and Tristan. “So, we got a bet goin’. Did this-” he waves at the both of them, where they’re still holding hands, “just start today?”

Yugi blushes and shakes his head.

Joey cheers and holds out a hand to Tristan,  who slaps some money into it with a scowl. “I thought not. So how long-”

“-skip the details, we don’t wanna know how it worked-”

“- _has_ it been goin’ on?”

With his free hand, Yugi scratches his head as he tries to do the math. “Uhhh…”

“ _That_ long? For cryin’ out loud, do you know how many dates I tried to get you? You gotta tell your wingman these things!”

Back on the deck of the Ishtars’ boat, Téa says, “But Phar- Atem, what about your friends and family on the other side? We saw them waiting for you.”

“They can wait a little longer, and they will not suffer for it. Time is different there.” Atem closes his eyes and turns his face up to the sun. “I will see them again.” He smiles. “But not yet.” Yugi squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back before letting him go. Atem and the sun seem to be having a moment, so Yugi takes the opportunity to go and talk to Grandpa.

Grandpa takes one look at him and rolls his eyes. “I should have guessed what two young men as close as you were getting up to, even if one _was_ a spirit.”

“He’s staying.”

“I wouldn’t dare suggest otherwise.”

“In my room.”

“You’re going to need a bigger bed.” Yugi just about starts crying again as he hugs his Grandpa.

“What are we going to tell Mom?”

“We have some time to think about it. Best to leave out the ghost shenanigans, I think.” Yugi nods fervently.

He finds Atem right where he left him, now deep in conversation with Bakura.

“I saw him destroyed. The three god-monsters fused into one being and pierced him with light until he shattered into nothingness.” Atem smiles with grim satisfaction. “You are free.”

Bakura grips his hands and whispers, “Thank you.” He turns away, sees Yugi, and hugs him tight as well, then walks off, wiping his eyes.

Atem watches him go. “This trouble all started when my uncle slaughtered his ancestor’s entire village to make the Millennium Items. It has the feel of closing a loop, to have saved him at last.”

Yugi slips a hand around his waist. “Your work is done.”

“It is. And you and I shall not be parted, in this world or the next.” Atem may not be a king in name anymore, nor seething with ancient spirit magic, but the strength of his will gives his words the same weight as ever.

“I’m starting to think I should have planned for a wedding,” Duke says behind them, “but a repurposed wake is going to have to do.”

Atem looks confused. "What is a ‘wake’?”

“A party to remember a dead person. But now it’s a party in honor of you not being dead! Come check it out so we can cut the cake.”

* * *

 Night falls while they’re still on the water. No one had slept well the night before, and so the party breaks up into individual cabins surprisingly early.

Reaction is starting to set in for Atem, and he’s punchy and distractible. Yugi has to guide him through getting ready for bed.

“Tired,” he mutters, “I forgot about this kind of tired.”

“You had to take care of my body by yourself for a while - didn’t you feel tired then?”

He blinks owlishly at Yugi. “Everything hurt too much then to feel normal things.” Yugi winces. “Now nothing hurts, but I’m tired.”

He sits on the bed, watching blearily as Yugi strips down. “The Puzzle is gone.”

Yugi peers at him. “Yes...”

“We don’t have the soul rooms anymore.”

Yugi nudges him into lying down. “We don’t need them. We can touch right here in this world, anytime we want.” He shows him, climbing in beside him and pulling the blankets over them both. It’s a tight fit, spooned snugly together, but it feels incredibly good.

Atem lets out a long, shaky sigh. He relaxes against Yugi, fitting them even more flush. “I don’t remember how to sleep.” His voice is already becoming fuzzy, his body remembering for him.

“What did you do when you were by yourself?”

“Kept going until I fell over.”

“And all those times I slept with you, or you were on the inside when I fell asleep?”

“Watched you sleep.”

Yugi kisses his shoulder. “Then just do what you saw me do.”

“Okay…” He’s limp and breathing deeply minutes after that. Yugi keeps his arms around him, hardly daring to move for fear of waking him, nor wanting to let go for his own sake. He wonders if Atem ever felt like this, holding Yugi while he slept, or watching over him.

But it’s been a long day for him too, and he is no spirit. He drops off in short order himself.

He wakes to Atem calling out his name. “Yugi! Yugi, where are you?”

“I’m right here, other me.”

“I can’t feel your mind!” He sounds panicked, disoriented.  

Yugi rolls them until they’re facing one another, then takes Atem’s hand and puts it on his chest. “Feel my heart.” He puts Atem’s other hand, and his own, on Atem’s chest. “Feel your heart.” With his free arm he pulls Atem tight against him. “We are here together.”

It takes a long time for Atem’s breathing to slow. Finally he says, “I’m sorry to have woken you.”

“It’s okay,” Yugi assures him, “I’m glad you did, so I can help. Is this helping?”

“Yes, thank you. Would you…”

“Would I what?”

“...hold me down?”

“No problem.” Yugi rolls them a little more to lie on top of Atem like a blanket. “Like that?”

Atem nods, then says, “My hands…”

Yugi pins them on either side of Atem’s head, and traps Atem’s thighs between his own for good measure. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Atem wheezes - almost all of Yugi’s weight is centred on his chest. “Gods, you’re so perfect, so good to me…”

Yugi grunts as his dick twitches, woken up by the interesting goings-on. He nuzzles Atem’s neck and humps half-heartedly a couple of times, in the tiny range of movement afforded by this position.

“Oh.” Atem’s own cock is soft against Yugi’s belly. “Do you want to…?”

Yugi shakes his head. “It’ll keep.” This is one boner that can go back where it came from. He lets himself go loose, a passive drape over Atem’s body, and the laxness seems to diffuse from him and into Atem. Yugi’s sleepy hardon fades away, leaving a vague, almost pleasant ghost of an ache. Later they’ll get up to something, and it’ll be all the sweeter for the wait.

When Atem is doing his best impression of a puddle of goo, Yugi pushes himself up. “I have an idea.”

“Mmm?” Atem’s gaze is unfocused.

“Since you can’t wear me all the time…” Yugi reaches to his neck.

“I can try. Had to wear whole animal skins sometimes - you’re not much heavier…”

“Har-de-har-har.” Yugi finishes unfastening his collar. “You can wear a part of me.” Careful of the cartouche chain, he slips the collar around Atem’s neck and buckles it. Atem’s neck is more muscular than Yugi’s - that broad gold collar and headdress looked like they weighed a ton - but a different notch achieves a perfect fit.

Atem touches it wonderingly, then looks at Yugi with shining eyes. “I love you.”

Yugi nods. “I know. I love you too.” He lies down again, shoulder under Atem’s arm, head on his chest. “Now go back to sleep,” he yawns.  

* * *

 The next time Yugi wakes up, dawn light is filtering into the cabin. The boat is at rest, engine silent, rocking gently. And Yugi is the one with a man lying on top of him.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Atem says, inches from his face. Yugi is reminded of a cat, crouched with its tail swishing, waiting to pounce. And pounce he does, fairly sucking the breath from Yugi’s lungs with his kiss.

“Oh no, you’re a morning person,” he jokes. Half jokes. 

“You could say it’s in my blood,” Atem says brightly, in between ravishing Yugi’s neck and ears. “According to the state religion, the sun is my direct ancestor.” He frowns thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s not the state religion anymore.” He swoops down and shows Yugi’s nipples some attention.

“My condolences?” Yugi says dizzily, barely tracking the conversation with the fraction of his blood not rushing for his dick.

Atem chuckles. “It was always a bad joke to me, given how the ‘bloodline’ transferred with every coup. And now we know the sun is a star.” He licks a long stripe up Yugi’s stomach, watching greedily as Yugi twists in reaction. “I still sang my praises when it rose today, though.” His gaze softens. “I have a great deal to be thankful for.” With that, he shuffles further down the bed and takes Yugi’s cock onto his tongue like a delicacy.

Yugi pants, reeling from the onslaught of pleasure. He remembers now, how Atem needed him in the night, and that need aroused him, and he deferred his arousal. Now Atem’s energy appears to be well and truly restored, overflowing even, and his own is catching up fast. “My dick is singing your praises,” he swears.

Atem pops off with a slurp so dirty Yugi is almost undone right there. His eyes narrow, the King of Games puzzling over something. “I have a conundrum,” he announces.

“Is it how are you so sexy? Because I gotta say I’m stuck on that myself.”

Atem flashes him a preening smirk. “No, my conundrum is that I want to keep tasting you, but I also want you inside me.”

Yugi groans, fighting for control over himself as his hips buck. “Better decide pretty quick,” he warns, “I’m not going to last.”

Atem looks him up and down, and that crazed gleam comes back into his eyes. “Inside me it is.”

Yugi thinks of something. “Wait, do we have stuff for that?”

Atem brandishes a tube of lubricant. “For tombkeepers, the Ishtars are very thoughtful hosts of the living.”

Yugi yanks on a fistful of his own hair and takes several deep breaths through his nose, then nods. “Okay. Okay, other me, let’s do this.” He sits up, pillows propped up behind his back. “Get up here.”

Fingering Atem open is a whole new exercise in trying not to come. His lovely eyes are wide, his mouth slack and wet, his body needy and pleading as he pushes back against Yugi’s fingers. The inside of his body is hot and smooth and tight, so tight.

“Maybe it would be easier with you on your stomach,” Yugi worries.

Atem shakes his head, reaches back and urges another of Yugi’s fingers into his ass, takes it with a gasp. “Like this. I want to see you, be borne up by you. My light and my foundation.” Yugi will never understand how Atem can say these things without sounding cheesy. Maybe it’s his absolute sincerity.

“Another, Yugi, I need you so much.” Atem bites his lip, riding slowly through the burn, then looks down at Yugi’s cock with naked hunger. “Four is enough, surely?”

“I mean, probably? I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never,” Atem swears, though he winces when Yugi’s fingers slip free. He lines up Yugi’s cock and sinks down on it, throwing his head back with a muffled cry, his body limned in sunlight. When he’s taken all of it and come to rest on Yugi’s lap, he lifts his head again and they stare at each other in awe. He raises his hands to Yugi’s shoulders, and Yugi reaches for Atem’s cock and begins jacking him as Atem leans in.

The kiss is fevered, uncoordinated, Atem already starting to slide up and down on Yugi’s cock. On a particularly forceful bounce he gasps and thrusts his tongue into Yugi’s mouth, and Yugi has to seal their mouths together to muffle his yell. They form a circuit that way, each moving inside the other, and Yugi is both on the razor’s edge of coming and almost crying at the perfection of it.

He strips Atem’s cock urgently, and Atem rides him faster and faster until suddenly he stops, grinds down hard, and starts to shake as he comes in absolute silence. He gapes at Yugi, red-faced, throat locked around what must surely be enough caterwauling to wake the dead. Not that Yugi doesn’t see the wisdom of it, but he promises himself he will hear all of Atem’s noises someday soon.

At last Atem relaxes, an amazing amount of come between them, and Yugi starts to thrust up into him, jostling Atem’s damp, yielding form in his lap. Atem collects himself enough to kiss him again, deeper than before, and then leans his forehead against Yugi’s and says, “Give it to me, dearheart. I want to feel you come inside me.”

That’s it, Yugi’s a goner. Cause of death: came his brains out due to excessive hotness of partner.

They look at each other as they try to catch their breath, and can’t stop themselves from laughing as that sheer astonished joy bubbles up again. Atem brushes his nose against Yugi’s and says, “I’m smiling so hard my face hurts.”

“Me too. I can’t stop.”

“I forgot that could happen.”

“Not uncommon at your age.” Atem snorts and bats feebly at his head.

“Insolent brat,” he intones, grinning, and leans in for another kiss. The movement dislodges Yugi and yet more come. Atem grimaces.

Yugi looks down. “Yikes,” he says, “let’s make sure we roll these sheets up really well when we leave.”

They wear towels to slip down to the little onboard bathroom, but it seems they’ve successfully avoided waking anyone. There isn’t room or hot water for more than a quick sluicing-off, but Yugi finds himself staring anyway at the water and soap bubbles streaming down Atem’s body.

Atem notices him staring and stretches, showing off. “See something you like, partner?”

“And how! You’ve always been sexy, but it felt kind of narcissistic to think much about your body. You know, since it was my body. Now, though - wow. Just wow.” He trails a finger up the lean musculature of Atem’s chest. Atem smolders at him.

The water is beginning to run cold already, so they shut it off and step out to get dry.  

“You’re steaming,” Yugi says softly. It’s not a metaphor; the dampness is literally steaming off Atem in the chilly morning air.

“So are you.” Atem reaches for him, rubbing some beaded water off Yugi’s shoulder. “As the world is reformed in darkness and born anew with the dawn, so too are we made new, and give thanks.”

Yugi regards him curiously. “How literal are you being right now?”

Atem shrugs. “It feels apt this morning.” He’s not wrong; the morning feels holy, infinite in potential, as if they’ve found their way inside a freshly-created world.

“And what shall we do next in this new world, other me?”

“I need to borrow some pants.”

“No problem; I have some changes of clothes. And then?”

“Have breakfast with me.”

Yugi knows he’s grinning like a loon, but he couldn’t stop himself if he tried, and he’s not trying. “Okay.”


End file.
